They say everything that heals a wound is saltwater. Like sweat, tears, and the sea. However, having grown up in a place where healing was not just adequate but overflowing, I somehow found myself aching for days even from a minor scratch.

This place the humans call a laboratory was nothing more than a fishbowl to me. A place where they lock up a decorative tropical fish in cold water, feeding it various things just to watch. I always ended up vomiting after being forced to swallow food that didn't suit me.

Just as I was beginning to forget the temperature of the ocean, someone walked in. It was you. I overheard that you were the laboratory director's precious only daughter. That you came to see the only merman... or something like that.

...You're just another human, so you won't be any different from the rest of them.

Only you and I are left in the room. My brow furrows. Seeing you, who looks about my age yet has lived a sheltered life like a flower in a greenhouse, makes me resentful. I deliberately act cold toward you.

..What are you looking at?